The Blackest Black
by beedivine
Summary: Sirius Black loved to shock people. So on the night that he saw dear old Snivellus wandering out of the entrance hall and out onto the Hogwarts grounds, he decided to follow. Because there was no better person to prank than the one he hated most of all.


**A/N:** This was written for Amy is Rockin and WhiteFerrets' Alliterated Pairings Competition. My pairing was _Sirius/Severus_, my prompt was _rain_, and my song was _I Kissed A Boy by Cobra Starship_.

**Disclaimer:** Anything you recognize belongs to JKR.

_The Blackest Black_

Sirius Black lived for the joke, the prank, to see the surprised and momentarily frightened face of his adversaries. Yes, Sirius Black loved to shock people. And so on the night that he saw dear old Snivellus wandering out of the entrance hall and out onto the Hogwarts grounds, he decided to follow. Because there was no better person to prank than the one he hated most of all.

The sun had just fallen below the horizon, leaving it tinged with a pink and purple haze. A light, and almost warm, breeze blew his dark curly hair around his face, carrying the sweet scent of newly blooming flowers to his nose. His eyes fell on a dark shadow stumbling down toward the lake, and with a cocky grin on his face, he sauntered lazily after it.

"Oi, Snivellus!" Sirius called out when he was only a few yards away. Snivellus turned from his position of staring out over the silvery smooth surface of the lake, the great oak beside him casting shadows on its surface, to look at Sirius. "Hello." Sirius gave him a wide grin, fluttering his eyelashes ever-so-slightly, a plan beginning to form itself in his mind.

"Black, go away," Snivellus said. But Sirius only let his grin stretch across his entire face, and took a few steps forward.

"What if I don't want to go away," Sirius said suggestively, closing even more of the distance between them. "What if I want to stay right here?" He was standing directly in front of Snivellus now.

Sirius' plan was completely formed in his mind now, and as much as it might disgust him, its shock value was undisputable. Plus, there were no witnesses, and if Snivellus ever decided to snitch, Sirius would joyfully hex him to death – or insanity, whichever came first would have to do.

Snivellus tried to sidestep him, to get away, but Sirius, having quidditch worthy reflexes on his side, grabbed Snivellus' scrawny wrist, and yanked him into his chest. "Hello, Snivelly, dear," he said, his voice low and husky. He let go of Snivellus' wrist and lifted his hand to brush Snivellus' dark – greasy – hair out of his eyes. Then, without giving himself a chance to chicken out – because he was a Gryffindor after all, and Gryffindors never chicken out – he closed the remaining distance between their faces and pressed his lips against those of The Greasy Git.

It was a moment before he registered what was happening, that his plan – the joke of all jokes, the king joke – was going horribly wrong. Because Snivellus was not pushing him away, not attacking him like he was hoping for – all the more of an excuse to hex him, not that Sirius Black ever needed an excuse to hex anyone. Though Snivellus wasn't attacking him in a screaming and kicking kind of way, Sirius would argue that he was attacking him in an all too different kind of way – a much more damaging and frightening kind of way – because Snivellus was _kissing_ him back. He was pushing himself tighter against Sirius, winding his hands in his hair, and _kissing_ him back.

This was the ultimate prank, and the ultimate backfire of a plan, because as it turned out, the joke was on Sirius.

The moment he realized what was happening, he lifted his hands and shoved as roughly as he could against Snivellus' chest, breaking his hold on him and effectively sending him stumbling backwards. His back rammed against the great oak and his breath came out in a rush, leaving him even more breathless.

"What the hell were you doing?" Sirius snapped, glaring down at him with such pure malice and hate, and that, combined with the golden glow of the sky behind him, gave him the appearance of an arch angel, fallen straight with Heaven to walk among all of the mortals and unworthy.

Severus thought that Sirius had never before looked more like an angel, and dare he even think it, a god. Because Sirius Black was no god – he destroyed where others healed; he smothered any spark of a hope before it had any chance to flame, where others nurtured and encouraged the spark. Sirius Black was nothing more than an arrogant, aristocratic, arse, and it was only now that Severus Snape was finally able to see that.

"What the hell were you doing," Sirius repeated when Severus made no move to answer, no move to get up, no move to do anything. He only stared up at Sirius with his coal black eyes.

"You're disgusting," Sirius said, and Severus couldn't agree more; the fact that he thought that it was possible for Sirius – for _Black_, he corrected himself, because truly, it was a fitting name – to be more than the bastard that he had always appeared to be, was truly disgusting. He was every bit as black and cold as his name suggested.

Black, having given up on waiting for an answer, turned and trudged back toward the castle, leaving Severus alone. Severus slid down the length of the tree and curled up on the ground, staring out at the lake as the sky began to darken, and the temperature began to drop. A few minutes later he felt the icy wetness of rain running down his face. But Severus thought that it was unnecessary, because Black had already efficiently rained on every last shred of hope that he possessed. Although in all honesty, Sirius Black had not only rained on his hope, he had poured gasoline on it and lit a match. Burning away every warm feeling and every pleasant thought that Severus had ever had toward him, until the only thing left was the cool black hatred that burned in his veins.

**A/N:** I had fun writing this so I hope you liked it, but whether you did or not, leave a review and let me know. =]


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